The pair of nesting birds, one as startlingly blue and iridescent as cut opal and the other blacker than a crow, watched him with a stillness so unnatural that at first, Caine thought them stuffed mounts left forgotten in the foliage by an absent minded explorer.
Until the blue one blinked — one filmy eyelid slipping over a second, and then a third, to reveal a slivering pupil — and drew itself up in one fluid motion, like a cobra rising to the notes of a charmer’s flute. Then, as if that were not performance enough, the bird cracked its orange beak open with a rasp that sounded like branches breaking.
Caine stilled when he saw the rows and rows of perfect teeth shining like pearls within its gaping mouth.
“A little menace you are,” he whispered, before he pinned his ears and bared his incisors in a matching snarl.
He had never been good with animals — meaning that he observed them from a distance, and limited his encounters to the occasional alley cat who, despite his warning glares, purred unnecessarily loud as it rubbed its body back and forth against his legs, back arched in smug pleasure.
Staring pointedly into the feathered beast’s mouth, Caine thought that he would rather not have that rubbing up against his legs. He would likely not leave in one piece.
Strangely enough the bird seemed to consider his snarl as an appropriate reaction, because with a curious tilt of its disarmingly beautiful head, it snapped its beak shut and ruffled its feathers against its companion, who had watched the entire exchange with little more than a nonplussed blink of its (also disturbingly three-lidded) eyes.
Caine curled his lips into a thin smile. Strange little creatures. Well, at the very least they had established a tenuous understanding. Mutual intimidation, or something to that effect. A bestiary he’d read as a child had recommended the tactic when dealing with creatures unknown to be frothing-at-the-mouth feral, or just a little unfriendly.
He turned towards the expanse of blue ocean lapping peacefully against the shore. Before he had even ventured past the island’s bone white beach, he had already encountered two of its supposedly sinister inhabitants. There was nothing amiss here, nothing close to the disaster that had been predicted to bring the End.
Caine had always thought the citizens of Novus too cautious compared to the hotblooded, dragon-loving Taeryn.
Just as he was about to leave the birds alone to their statuesque roost, he tensed when he heard the sucking of hooves on wet sand. When he remembered that he was not the only one curious enough to brave the bridge (or in his case, flew), his tail flicked dismissively against his legs.
He swivelled his head towards the newcomer and frowned when the birds followed suit, their movements perfectly matched.
“Careful.” He blinked, as impassive as the unflinching duo. “I think they bite.”
Until the blue one blinked — one filmy eyelid slipping over a second, and then a third, to reveal a slivering pupil — and drew itself up in one fluid motion, like a cobra rising to the notes of a charmer’s flute. Then, as if that were not performance enough, the bird cracked its orange beak open with a rasp that sounded like branches breaking.
Caine stilled when he saw the rows and rows of perfect teeth shining like pearls within its gaping mouth.
“A little menace you are,” he whispered, before he pinned his ears and bared his incisors in a matching snarl.
He had never been good with animals — meaning that he observed them from a distance, and limited his encounters to the occasional alley cat who, despite his warning glares, purred unnecessarily loud as it rubbed its body back and forth against his legs, back arched in smug pleasure.
Staring pointedly into the feathered beast’s mouth, Caine thought that he would rather not have that rubbing up against his legs. He would likely not leave in one piece.
Strangely enough the bird seemed to consider his snarl as an appropriate reaction, because with a curious tilt of its disarmingly beautiful head, it snapped its beak shut and ruffled its feathers against its companion, who had watched the entire exchange with little more than a nonplussed blink of its (also disturbingly three-lidded) eyes.
Caine curled his lips into a thin smile. Strange little creatures. Well, at the very least they had established a tenuous understanding. Mutual intimidation, or something to that effect. A bestiary he’d read as a child had recommended the tactic when dealing with creatures unknown to be frothing-at-the-mouth feral, or just a little unfriendly.
He turned towards the expanse of blue ocean lapping peacefully against the shore. Before he had even ventured past the island’s bone white beach, he had already encountered two of its supposedly sinister inhabitants. There was nothing amiss here, nothing close to the disaster that had been predicted to bring the End.
Caine had always thought the citizens of Novus too cautious compared to the hotblooded, dragon-loving Taeryn.
Just as he was about to leave the birds alone to their statuesque roost, he tensed when he heard the sucking of hooves on wet sand. When he remembered that he was not the only one curious enough to brave the bridge (or in his case, flew), his tail flicked dismissively against his legs.
He swivelled his head towards the newcomer and frowned when the birds followed suit, their movements perfectly matched.
“Careful.” He blinked, as impassive as the unflinching duo. “I think they bite.”
open to anyone! | "speaks" | notes: come join caine as he harasses checks out the local fauna
